Blacklands
by Laadav M. S. Etten
Summary: Erik - a boy who finds a magic ring - is thrust into a magical battle in Mär Heaven, and through the portal to the Old Kingdom - a battle in which he may be the only hope.


Erik's head pounded as he spun head over heels. He couldn't see anything around him, only himself and the darkness. He glanced down at his hand, to the ring that had done this to him. It was simple, small and black. He hadn't thought anything of it, just scooped it up and put it on. Then he shuddered as a voice spoke in his mind.

_Hello, Erik,_ it began, calm and icy, _I have waited for you for a time now. My name is Xayla, and-_

"Wait," Erik interrupted, "can we stop with the spinning thing? It's making me dizzy, and it's hard to understand you."

_Of course, _the voice sighed, and a loud snap was heard. Instantly, Erik was suspended in an upright position. _Anyway, _continued the voice, _my name is Xayla, and I require your services, boy. We are not leaving yet, but within the week, I will take you to __Mär__ Heaven. An evil organization - the Chess Pieces - is rising again, under a new leader. I, a powerful warrior, have been trapped in this __ÄRM - the ring you wear - to prevent me from stopping them. And to top it all off, there's a cat involved._

"A...cat?" Erik asked.

_Yes, a cat. This may seem absurd, but there is a magical...cat...which has come from another world. He calls himself 'Mogget', and annoys the crap out of all of us._

"But...he's a cat..."

_No._

"But you said he was a cat."

_Sometimes he's a cat._

"What is he the other times?"

_Not a cat._

"We're having a disconnect here," Erik shouted, flustered. Coincidentally, his shout had enough force to start him spinning slowly again.

Xayla sighed. _I'll try to explain more when I can...it's complicated. For now, concentrate on getting yourself prepared, okay? It'll be rough._

Suddenly, Erik was back in his own room, on his own bed. His mother stood in the doorway.

"Talking to yourself again?" she asked, "Sometimes I worry about you."

* * *

><p>Throughout the next day, Erik couldn't stop glancing at the ÄRM Xayla on his finger. He talked to no one, and thought about almost nothing other than what Xayla had revealed to him. Chess Pieces? Mär Heaven? Mogget, a cat who wasn't a cat? And a man in a ring? What exactly was going on here? It was maddening to try and comprehend.<p>

By the end of the day, one of Erik's friends finally had the courage to confront him. He jumped a couple of feet into the air at the soft touch on his arm. He whirled around to face a girl with short brown hair, her head cocked to one side, he green eyes curious.

"Um...Erik?" Leanne began, "Are you all right? you're acting very strangely, you know..."

Erik stumbled over his own words. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed.

Leanne looked at him in disbelief, and wandered off. Erik looked down, slightly ashamed. How could he explain about the ring and Xayla without being mocked or put into a mental institution? He would seem insane!

Erik grabbed the ring, and pulled at it again. No dice. The bloody contraption wouldn't let him go. Xayla had said this was an ÄRM...what did that mean? Was it somehow bound to him? Erik wondered if there were other ÄRM, or if this was the only one.

As if in answer to the unspoken question, he caught sight of something metal out of the corner of his eye. Upon hunting it down and giving it a close examination, Erik discovered that it was a black, fingerless glove. The material was unknown to him, but it was light in his hands. Glancing over his shoulders surreptitiously, Erik slid the glove onto his right hand, with a slight bit of difficulty forcing Xayla through it.

Was this another ÄRM?

_Concentrate on it,_ came the voice in Erik's head.

"Xayla!" he whispered angrily, panting, "you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Silence met this. "Now what did you say?"

_Concentrate on the glove. It will react to you,_ Xayla explained.

"Does he - it - whatever - talk too?"

_No, it's just a weapon ÄRM. But it does respond to its name. It is called Locef. Give it a try._

"Locef," breathed Erik, focusing on the glove, which admittedly felt a little bit silly. Especially with the stare he was giving it.

_Erik,_ Xayla admonished, _you can't think that it's silly. It won't work then. And your life may depend on Locef one day. And stop with the stare. It's making me nervous._

"What happens when you get nervous? You're an inanimate object."

_I'm a dimension ÄRM some things disappear, some things behave oddly in time, and some things explode. So the chance of you exploding when I'm nervous is approximately 42 percent by my calculations, factoring in extreme proximity._

"I'd say that is pretty extreme," Erik agreed nervously, "so please get off of me."

_No._

"Why not?"

_Sadly, I need you, remember? I also factored in that I liked you. Unless you want four-to-one odds in favor of explosion._

"Never mind, I'm good."

Erik turned his attention back to the glove.

"Locef."

Erik's arm twitched, and a blade of black metal stretched three feet from his hand. It was humming. And in his subconscious, Erik thought of cats.


End file.
